


Love - A Dramione One-Shot

by nztina



Series: The Hogwarts 1999 Series [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24714841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nztina/pseuds/nztina
Summary: Candlelit dinners, Quidditch accidents, and Muggle jeans. It's date night for Hermione and Draco!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: The Hogwarts 1999 Series [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751569
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Love - A Dramione One-Shot

**Author's Note:**

> We all know that I am allergic to writing anything but fluff. It's fluff city. I hope you like the story. I wish I could write a story where Hermione and Draco have an argument but I just can't. Maybe in another series. I think they've used up all their arguments in their past years. This year is for happiness. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Hermione pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks and looked around. In the far corner, at their usual table, sat her date. She smiled and made her way over. 

“Well, hello there.”

“Took you long enough.” Draco set down his firewhisky and brought a hand up to cup Hermione’s jaw, kissing her softly. It was a cool summer’s night and he wore Muggle jeans that Hermione’s father had sent him for his birthday. Her mother had sent a stationary photograph of the four of them, lit by the flash of the self-timed camera, standing against the backdrop of the Sydney Opera House. Hermione had given her father Draco’s measurements when he had written to her months ago, asking why her boyfriend wore such formal clothing.

_“Doesn’t he like jeans, Hermione? Shall I get him a pair of those, do you think? They’re very comfortable. I’ll ask your mother to help me buy them because goodness knows what I’ll end up purchasing if I’m by myself. Ask what size he wears. Is that appropriate? When I send them, tell him they are from me though, because I do want him to know I think he’s a fine chap. We both really love him, sweetheart. A wonderful boy. We’re so glad that you’ve settled down with someone like him. Tell him we’re very proud of him. Does he like cricket, do you think? Tell him I’ll take him to a game when we’re back in England in August. He can come for the weekend. You should come, too. We’ll have a lovely time of it._

The entire letter from him had waxed poetic about Draco and Hermione rolled her eyes when her mother sent a similar letter asking her if Draco would mind having a non-magic photograph to keep in his room, and also if Hermione wouldn’t mind going into Draco’s room to check what colour scheme it was so that the photo frame would be sure to match. Long story short, Hermione realised that Draco was now her parents’ favourite child. He loved both the jeans and the photograph he received for his birthday and Disapparated to Australia for about an hour to tell Hermione’s parents just how thankful he was when he opened the presents.

Hermione kissed him back, running a hand through his silk hair before across from him.

“I’m sorry, Ginny was holding a Quidditch class and one of the first years lost control of his broom and flew straight into her. She wasn’t looking at him so she got knocked off her broom.”

“Shit, is she okay? The kid? What happened?”

“I feel awful about it because I was in the stands. I was reading,” to this, Draco snorted, “so I didn’t see it happen in time to get them to the ground safely. Ginny managed to grab Zachary before they fell and she took the worst of the fall. He didn’t break anything but has a mild concussion. He just needs to sleep it off. Ginny, on the other hand —,”

“Bad?”

“Two broken legs. She’s in Madam Pomfrey’s care. Actually,” Hermione took a sip of Draco’s drink, “she’s the one who insisted on me coming to have dinner with you. I was going to send you a Patronus but she said she would be mad if I cancelled on date night. Harry was there when I left, Ron too.”

“We’ll go see her after dinner.”

“Actually, we have to. She made me promise that we would bring her back something to eat.”

Madam Rosmerta, as if on cue, came up to the table and smiled at the young couple. 

“Hello, dears. What can I get you?”

Hermione leaned around the table to see what the people at the next table were eating. 

“Is that a beef Wellington? Yes? I’ll have that and a mug of butterbeer, please.”

“Sure, Hermione. What about you, young man?”

“Just the roast for me, thanks, Madam Rosmerta.”

She nodded and walked back to the bar. Hermione sighed and laid her head down to rest her forehead against their joined hands. Draco moved the candle out of the way so her hair didn’t catch alight. 

“Tired?”

“Wiped out. I was crying like a total idiot when Ginny was unconscious. I’m dehydrated.”

“Dehydrated.” He repeated the word, slowly. “That’s when you’ve gotten too cold, right?” 

“No, that’s hypothermia. Dehydrated is lack of water.” Hermione raised her head and smiled at him. Draco frowned, looking annoyed. 

“Damn. I should have known, from the Latin root.”

Hermione smiled at the thought of Draco Malfoy taking a keen interest in Muggle terminology. He was wearing _jeans_ , for Godric’s sake. Thinking back, she wondered if the Draco of fifth or sixth year would be horrified at his future self, but happily, she didn’t have to dwell on it. The Draco sitting with her now, absentmindedly stroking her arm and staring into the candlelight was the only one that mattered. Within a minute, Rosmerta stood above them with two plates in her hands. 

“One beef Wellington, and one roast.” She laid the dishes down and then _Accio’d_ a bowl of crispy roast potatoes to them as well.

“Oh, we didn’t order tha—,” Hermione started. 

“On the house, dear. You both make me smile when you come in for dinner. It’s the least I can do.” Rosmerta winked at her and Hermione blushed. 

“Actually, Madam Rosmerta, could I also ask for you to please pack up another beef Wellington and whatever pudding you have tonight? One of our friends is in the hospital wing and we’re bringing her dinner.”

Rosmerta nodded, telling them to enjoy their meal. Draco used his fork to spear a potato before dipping it into the gravy on Hermione’s plate and she pulled a carrot from the pile of roasted veggies on Draco’s plate. They ate in silence for a few moments before Hermione set down her fork and cleared her throat. Draco set down his own cutlery and wiped at his mouth with his napkin, looking at her expectantly. 

“I want to discuss us.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Should I be concerned?”

Hermione shook her head, and even though she knew he was joking, she saw his shoulders visibly relax.

“As you know,” she pushed her butterbeer forwards and backwards on the table, “the school year is coming to an end in a few months.”

“Yes, as a fellow student of Hogwarts, I am aware of this, Granger.”

“Draco Malfoy, I will hex you.”

“Sorry. Go on.”

“I want to talk about our future.” She paused and blinked at him, expectantly. He frowned.

“What?”

“Oh, I thought you would make some stupid remark.”

“Get to the point, please, Granger. I’m still hungry.”

“Right. Okay so, anyway. I want to know what you want out of this. Us. If you’re serious about this, or if you want to explore other options when we graduate.”

Draco tried to stop the smile that was tugging at his mouth and took a sip of firewhisky to hide the inevitable. 

“What sort of options?”

Hermione shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I guess if you want to break up with me when we finish school? If you want to date other people?”

“I think I’ll be passing on that, thank you.”

“So you want to stay together? You want to be serious?”

“Hermione, I am serious about us.” His use of her first name always made her eyes go wide with surprise and he enjoyed the reaction “You’re it, for me. Do you think I’d have a charmed Muggle telephone in my room so I could call your parents every Sunday if I wasn’t serious about you?”

Hermione’s cheeks warmed at the thought of him being serious about her but then she focused on the other part of his question.

“Hang on a minute. You call them? Is that why they like you more than me?”

Draco ignored her. 

“Do you think I’d be bribing Rita Skeeter with weekly donations to the Daily Prophet so she doesn’t harass you about dating me?”

“What?!”

“Do you think I’d be playing Quidditch with Potter every weekend if I wasn’t trying to make an effort with your friends?”

Hermione sank back in her chair, stunned. 

“I thought you were just friends now.” 

“Because of you, Granger. I made the effort because of you. Everything has been for you. I’m serious about this. Us.” He grabbed onto her hands and she surrendered them happily. 

“You’re it for me, too, Draco.”

“Can you guys get a fucking room? We’re trying to eat here.” Someone nearby barked at them and Hermione and Draco looked to see Pansy glaring at them from the next table, revulsion on her face. Neville was sitting with her, looking apologetic. They must have come in at some point.

“Sorry, Pansy!” Hermione looked back at Draco, embarrassed. He was flipping Pansy off, a grin on his face. He turned back to Hermione. 

“Now that we’ve cleared up the fact that you are not a passing flight of fancy for me, can I please get back to my dinner, Granger?”

She nodded, waving her wand to reheat the two plates that had gone cold. 

—————————————————————————————————————

“And then, he said everything had been for me!” Hermione hugged the pillow to her chest and sunk her chin into it. Ginny nodded, her eyes wide as she ate a green bean. They were sitting on Ginny’s hospital bed. After she and Draco had come to see her and ask about her leg, Hermione told him to go back to his room, and that she would meet him there in a while. He had barely left the room before the two girls started talking about him.

“So did you drop the L-word?”

“No. I don’t,” Hermione hesitated, “I don’t want to say it and scare him off.”

“Oh, I totally get that. I mean, when Harry told me, I freaked out.”

“Where is Harry, by the way? And Ron?”

“They both fell asleep while they were sitting with me so Madam Pomfrey made them go to bed.”

“That’ll be because they spent the whole of last night studying for a test that they had forgotten was happening today.”

“Idiots.”

“I keep telling them to write down these things but they never listen to me.”

“Anyway, you do love him, right?”

“Draco?”

“Obviously?” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“I do.” Hermione tilted her head to one side, thoughtfully, “It wasn’t even a big deal when I figured it out, you know? No crazy romantic gesture or speech. One day, I just woke up and ate breakfast with him like every day, and while he was pouring me a second cup of tea, I realised that he felt like home to me. It was as simple as that. I knew I loved him.”

“Godric, that is disgusting.”

“I know. I never thought I’d be acting all ‘ _Mills and Boone_ ’ about it —,”

“Wait, what’s that?”

“Nothing, don’t worry. Anyway, it was just so natural, you know? It’s like he’s just a part of me now.”

“I get that.” Ginny nodded her head in agreement. “You sleep in his room more than you do in ours.”

Hermione looked ashamed for a moment but Ginny shook her head, laughing. 

“Don’t feel bad! Every time you’re with him, Harry comes to sleep in our room!”

Hermione’s face went from guilt-ridden to disgusted within a matter of seconds. 

“Don’t say another word. As long as you keep off my bed, I’m fine remaining ignorant.”

To Hermione’s dismay, Ginny went red and she avoided her gaze.

“Um, about that—,”

“I suppose I’ll have to burn my bed to the ground, now.”

—————————————————————————————————————

Later that night, Hermione kissed Draco’s shoulder before getting up to reclothe herself. She could hear him doing the same behind her. As she pulled on one of Draco’s soft sleeping shirts, she smiled at the photograph sitting on Draco’s bedside table. Her parents, Draco and her own reflection smiled back at her, their faces frozen in time. After Hermione was in her pyjamas again, she sat down on the edge of the bed, braiding her hair into a plait, and felt Draco’s palm rest against the base of her spine. She twisted her neck to look at him. His eyes were closed and she tucked herself back under the covers, shaping her body to fit next to him, an arm draped across his chest. He pulled her close. 

“I love you.”

It was Draco who spoke. She raised herself on her elbow and stared down at him, unsure if she had imagined it or not.

“What?”

He opened his eyes. 

“I love you, Hermione Granger.”

She wanted to be annoyed that he said it before she did because she was competitive by nature and thought she would be the one to say it first. But looking at his open, sincere face, she knew that it was the most precious gift he could give her. His love. He pulled her down to kiss him and when they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his. He spoke, his voice shaky.

“When I was little, my father told me never to say ‘I love you’ to anyone outside of my family. He said it was like giving up power, to be vulnerable. That it was weakness. But whenever I look at you and feel my love for you surging through me, it’s more powerful than any magic I’ve ever had. So I wanted you to know. That my father was wrong, that I don’t think love is a weakness, and that I love you more than anything.”

Hermione sank down to rest her head against his chest, and softly replied,

“I love you too, Draco Malfoy.”

There was silence for a few moments, just breathing, and then,

“Pansy and Ginny are right. We really are quite revolting.”

**Author's Note:**

> I told you. Fluff city. I disgust myself, sometimes.


End file.
